Wolven
by Bioterrorist
Summary: The elves have encountered werewolves.  The result causes a war.  Now Legolas, Elrohir, Elladan and Elrond have to find a way to fix the mess.
1. Chapter 1

Wolven

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Foul things came across the lands of Middle Earth as Mordor grew in strength. The elves had started sending out hunting parties to combat the strange creatures churned out, often finding themselves in strange alliances in the heat of battle. Though the Noldor and Silvan elves hated each other as a rule, they fought side by side all the same when faced with parties of orcs and goblins. It was after one of those battles that the Peredhil twins met Legolas for the first time.

"Nice move," Elladan called to the blond.

"Pardon?" Legolas asked.

"This thing," Elrohir answered, prodding a furry corpse with his toe. The thing looked much like the cross between a warg and an orc, ugly beyond description. "We were talking. We loved how you stopped its jaws with your arm."

Legolas' eyes flashed with ire. "As I recall, it was you that dropped your sword," he snarled at Elladan. A bit of uncertainty flitted across his features and his cerulean eyes flickered between the twins, not sure which was which. The twins laughed at him.

"Elladan," one of the twins offered, introducing himself.

"Elrohir," the other said. He took pity on the blond after a moment. "I was the one that dropped my sword… when I was hit by a charging warg. Thank you, by the way." Realizing belatedly that he was being teased, Legolas had the decency to blush a bit.

"Were you hurt?" the recently identified Elladan asked. Legolas studied his profile avidly for a moment in an attempt to tell the two apart. His eyes lit up a bit when he saw that Elladan had a slight smattering of freckles where Elrohir did not.

"Just a scratch," Legolas said, shrugging off the injury. His expression indicated that he didn't intend to even have it looked at by resident healers that traveled with them.

"Could we see?" Elrohir asked, reaching presumptuously for the blonde's arm. Legolas dodged out of his reach.

"It's nothing," he insisted.

Elladan managed to snag his wrist where his twin had failed, smirking at Legolas' indignant expression. "If it's nothing, prove it."

"This is not necessary," Legolas began.

"Then you won't mind," Elladan continued. His efforts earned him a dirty look that he steadfastly ignored.

Sniffing dismissively, Legolas allowed him to pull his sleeve back, revealing a nasty set of puncture marks from a set of equally frightening set of fangs. The twins crowded him in an effort to get a look at the injury, both frowning at what they saw. The injured area was already reddening and swelling. Exchanging silver glances, the twins made a decision without the permission of their blond patient. Legolas looked fairly trapped when they closed in on him from either side, dropping their arms across his shoulders in a deceptively friendly manner. They ignored his protests and frog-marched him to their horses where they had a few basic medical supplies.

Legolas tolerated their handling of his arm, surprised that they were fairly competent in cleaning the bite mark out. After watching them playfully poke at each other while trying to bind the lacerations, he finally gave in to the vague mirth he was feeling. Apparently the stories of the twins' playful attitude towards everyone and everything hadn't been exaggerated. He was a little fearful that the tales of their exploits and constant pranks might be accurate as well. If that were the case, he pitied Elrond greatly. He'd be surprised if the older elf hadn't ripped his hair out.

The Peredhil twins confirmed his suspicions when they wrapped his arm in gauze, topping the wound with an intricate bow. Legolas snorted.

"Is that necessary?" he asked wryly.

"Of course not," Elladan said, smiling. "But it's so stylish."

Legolas shook his head, amused. He changed the topic to a more relevant one. "We'll burn the corpses and move on. Night won't reach us for another few hours and I'd like to camp far from the pyres."

"We could start back toward Imladris. 'Tis but a week's ride if we hurry," Elrohir queried.

"The hunt, at least for my company, is scheduled for another two months," Legolas said. "I'm afraid I cannot accompany you back yet."

"We can hardly bring our father to you," Elladan said.

"His services are not necessary," Legolas said, getting flustered. When the twins looked like they were going to press their luck, he continued. "Are you going to drag me across country and bother your father for a scratch? One that will likely be healed before we arrive?"

"Fine," Elrohir capitulated. "But don't come crying to us when your arm falls off."

"It's not going to fall off," the blond said dryly.

"It's swollen and obviously infected," Elladan said, arching one eyebrow.

"Elves cannot get sick," Legolas sighed.

"Can get poisoned, though," Elladan all too graciously pointed out.

"By getting bitten?" Legolas asked incredulously.

"What? Never seen a snake?"

"It wasn't a reptile, Elladan!" the archer said in frustration.

The two of them would have started a small war between themselves had not another elf interrupted their imminent argument. A blond Mirkwood elf approached them, looking a little disconcerted.

"There's something you should see, Prince Legolas," he said. He glanced briefly at the bow on the prince's arm before chancing a look at the twins, knowing who was to blame. Legolas simply nodded and followed him, surprised to see the Peredhil twins following him out of curiosity.

Silently, the guard pointed towards one of the corpses that the other elves had been stacking into a pile to burn. This one had been left to the side, the guards not relishing the thought of touching it. The three approached it warily. The twisted creature that Legolas had slain to protect Elrohir laid in the bloodied soil, writhing slightly even though dead. The three stared at it in fascination as it twisted and twitched, not realizing for several seconds that its form was altering before their very gazes. Fur receded slowly, giving way to dark skin as bones cracked and reformed. It was starting to reach the appearance of a very large orc. The three remained in silence until Elrohir whistled.

"If it weren't already dead, I'd say that looked painful," Elrohir said wryly.

"I've never seen the like," Legolas said, shaking his head in mild disbelief. He glanced at the twins. "Have you ever come upon anything like that?"

"Of course," Elladan answered. "We just love looking surprised." The remark got him a flat look from the blond and he chuckled unrepentantly. Legolas finally gave in and grinned a bit, unable to keep up his indifference towards the unruly twins.

Shaking his head in mute amusement, Legolas left their company to help his men pile the bodies to be burned. Prince or no, he was not above physical labor. He was a bit shocked when the twins accompanied him, staying by his side as he lugged the heavy carcasses around, doing their best to prevent him from using his injured arm. After an hour of hard labor, he decided that the friendly pair was a welcome addition. When he suggested that their two parties form an alliance in their patrols, he wasn't surprised when the twins readily accepted.

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Legolas performed an amazing display of flexibility in battle, arching and twisting midair to avoid an orc's blade. His maneuver saved him from being permanently crippled from a severed spine, but he was still grazed by the blade, leaving a deep wound along his shoulder blades. He countered by ducking into a roll, sticking his hands out and kicking upwards with both feet, catching the orc in the knees with his heels. When the creature collapsed, he finished up by coming to his feet and decapitating the thing. He turned a few circles before determining that the battle was all but over, the elves having slaughtered the mass of orcs they had discovered.

"You still in one piece?" Elrohir asked, jogging up to the blond archer.

"I'll live," Legolas replied, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to see how badly he had been hit. The gash running across his back stung fiercely.

"You're bleeding," Elrohir remarked pointedly, eyeing his blood-soaked shirt. The half-elf was worried about the blond that had quickly become his friend in the two days they had been in one another's company. Unfortunately for the elves in both groups, none of the three seemed to have a calming effect on the others and they had spent most of their time between battles pulling pranks on each other and just about everyone else in sight.

"Are you okay?" Elladan asked, joining the two. Like his twin, his eyes trailed over Legolas' ruined shirt, trying to gauge the underlying wound.

"I'm fine," Legolas answered reflexively. "But if you want to see my back, go for it."

Knowing perfectly the futility of protesting, Legolas acquiesced to the attentions of the Peredhil twins. He submissively allowed himself to be pushed into a sitting position while one of the two raven-haired brothers pulled his shirt up around his neck to expose his bloodied back. One of the two whistled. He suspected it was Elrohir.

"Damn," he commented. "You are one hairy elf."

"What?" Legolas objected. "I am not!"

"What do you call this?" the other supported, running one finger down Legolas' spine, ruffling a strip of fine golden hair. He jerked almost convulsively at the strange sensation, instinctively pulling away from the odd feeling. He clapped one hand to his back to still the weird tingling, freezing at what his fingers contacted. His eyes glazed over slightly.

"Legolas?" a concerned voice asked.

The archer blinked at his name, not having realized that he'd phased out until then. The voice sounded worried and he looked back at the twins with a vaguely horrified expression.

"By the Valor, what has happened?" Legolas asked, his fingers curling almost automatically into the thick golden hair that followed the length of his spine. He hurriedly pulled his shirt back down from his neck, concealing the sight of his back from the troops. He turned almost panicked eyes on the twins, his worries not lying with his injury.

"It was that orc," Elladan said, thoughts turning immediately to the strange creature Legolas had slain. His suspicions had proved accurate. It had been diseased and the blond prince was infected.

"Give me your arm," Elrohir said, taking the appendage up without asking and pushing his sleeve back. In twin half circles matching the bite, which had healed by the end of the first day, thick fur ran across Legolas' skin. Elrohir ran his fingers through it, not missing the flinch that followed the action. He didn't bother asking how long it had looked like that. The shock on the archer's face made it clear that he hadn't known it was there. Always ready for battle, the warriors often slept fully dressed.

"We're going to Imladris," Elladan said in a tone that brooked no argument. Indeed, he received none, the prince looking like he had just received a death sentence. He draped his cloak over Legolas' shoulders and strode to the nearest elf. "Thendar, you are in charge of both companies. My brother, Legolas and I are leaving immediately."

Thendar looked to Legolas for confirmation that he was indeed being given the Mirkwood elves. Legolas nodded, willing to let his forces stay with the Imladris company. They fought well together and he trusted the twins to choose someone competent to lead them. The brunette elf nodded and strode off, helpfully assisting the three departing elves ready their horses. The twins had matching chestnut stallions. The blond would be riding a dappled gray mare from a Mirkwood archer, his own raven black steed having been slain the prior day. The dark-haired elves vaulted onto the bare backs with ease, exchanging worried looks when the gray steed flattened her ears to her head, pulling away from Legolas a little, though she didn't prevent him from mounting. They hoped that she was just being a little skittish because he was a different rider.

The three horses were off like shots, carrying their charges at breakneck speeds through the thick trees. The elves rode low, flattened to the sweaty backs to reduce air resistance as well as protect themselves from scratching tree branches. They continued with the deadly pace, riding the horses into the ground. They finally had to call a halt when Elladan's steed began to falter, nearly tripping on a root. The day had long fallen to night and the horses were having difficulty seeing to run.

"We'll stop here for a few hours," Elladan said, knowing that the horses at least needed the chance to rest. "We'll start again as soon as the sun rises."

"How are you doing?" Elrohir asked Legolas, who had dismounted a little stiffly. They tried to convince themselves that he was just tired from fighting and the long ride. The blond grunted as he settled down, covering himself with his cloak. His eyes reflected the meager starlight, glinting golden in the blackness as elfin eyes were never meant to do. Elrohir noted the change but didn't comment on it.

"Stiff," Legolas answered honestly. He curled on his side with his back to the twins, clearly not wanting to talk about it. Helpless to do anything for him, they went to sleep, needing the rest.

They were awoken when the first rays of light crept over the horizon by a startled yell. Elladan and Elrohir were on their feet with their swords drawn before they could even identify what they had heard. They spotted Legolas half sitting, blue eyes looking terrified. Since he was still mostly hidden by the cloak, they weren't sure what was bothering him. Sheathing their blades, they went over to him, trying to pull the cloak back and receiving minor resistance. They understood what had shocked the blond prince immediately since his hands were curled around it so tightly that it was almost painful. It was a tail. Only a foot long and covered with short fur, but it was still a tail. Having sensed something awry, he had pushed down his leggings just far enough to get to the new appendage, crying out when he had realized what it was.

"Lets get going," Elrohir said, pulling his hands free and pulling him to his feet. He eyed the thickening hair on the archer's arms and the hint of claws tipping his fingers.

The horses seemed to like Legolas less than ever. The chestnut males shied away from him and nickered, calming at a few words from Elladan. The dappled gray mare was having none of it and she threw her head back, half rearing. The twins waved him back and tried to calm her down. Thinking that it might be easier, they sent Legolas towards one of the chestnut stallions, but the horse shied away from him too. The situation became even more complicated when the twins directed him to the third horse the blond reached for it in frustration. The animal, already worked up from watching the other two animals panic, reared and screamed, kicking Legolas with his front hooves and running from the small campground with no intention of stopping at the orders from the twins. Trying to soften the blow to his chest, he rolled backwards, doing a quick somersault and ending up in a crouch. Elrohir helped him back to his feet.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Legolas said reflexively, rubbing one hand across his chest where a fairly good-sized bruise was forming. "How are we going to get to Imladris if our mounts won't tolerate me?"

Silver gazes exchanged a look and Elladan mounted the gray mare. "I'll ride ahead and find our father. You two do your best to follow. We'll meet you as soon as possible." Spinning the mare, he thundered off, riding her hard enough that she would likely drop dead from exhaustion by the time he got home.

Not liking the fact he had to resort to such base measures, Elrohir pulled a bridle out of his pack and fitted it to the stallion's head. He mounted a little roughly and tried to guide him over to Legolas. He hesitated to obey, but finally gave in to the elf he served. Ignoring the flinch his touch earned, Legolas swung up behind Elrohir, nearly losing his seat when the stallion jumped a bit. He wrapped his arms around Elrohir's waist to secure himself in case the chestnut male tried to buck him again.

"I would prefer you in front of me," Elrohir said, worried that Legolas wasn't in good enough shape to hold on.

"No," Legolas said, refusing the request to swap positions.

"And why not?" he insisted. There was such a delay that he wondered if Legolas was going to answer. The response was mumbled softly with such embarrassment that he couldn't help but capitulate.

"Tail…"

He squeezed Legolas' forearm comfortingly, turning his steed towards the trail and kicking him into a hard gallop. "You'll be fine. Elrond is one of the most skilled healers in all Middle Earth."

Carrying a second passenger, the horse slowed greatly from the pace it had managed the previous day. Unhanding the reigns for a few seconds, he rifled through his packs and came up with a piece of lembas, pressing it into Legolas' palm. It was never comfortable eating atop a galloping horse, but he didn't want to take time out of their travels. He began eating a piece of elfish bread as well, grimacing at the evils of the rather bland, monotonous meal.

After a few minutes, he passed his water flask back to Legolas, the archer taking a few quick gulps and passing it back. Elrohir took a drink, not realizing just then what he had done to himself. He was so used to sharing food with his twin that he had unwittingly condemned himself to Legolas' fate without even realizing it.

They rode for the better part of the second day, slowing to a walk on occasion when it became apparent that the stallion could no longer maintain his backbreaking pace. For some time, Legolas slumped against Elrohir's back, slumbering uneasily atop the running horse. They had another boring meal of lembas and water while riding, stopping only when the sun went down, and only then to allow their mount to rest. The horse was close to collapsing where he stood.

In the meager light left, Elrohir attempted to examine the Mirkwood prince, the blond only reluctantly accepting his tentative touch. During the day, his tail had lengthened to the point that the tip could touch the ground while he stood erect, which was getting hard to manage. His legs had altered in structure slightly, thighs and calves shortening while his feet stretched, creating more of a digigrade appearance. The fur running down his spine had fanned out to cover more of his back, a mirroring steak of gold appearing on his lower abdomen. His teeth had lengthened to form considerable fangs out of his canines, and even the other teeth were starting to draw to points. His ears had grown larger and more triangular, fur peppering the backs of the pointed auricles.

For his part, Legolas looked terrified. He avoided looking directly at Elrohir, opting to stare at his altered hands, the digits growing shorter and thicker as the days passed. Elrohir could understand his unease. Even he shuddered at the thought. The only options that he could readily see from the course of infection were morbid at best. An undignified death or living all eternity as a monster. Neither outcome was appealing.

The night was cold enough that under normal conditions, they would have lain beside one another and stacked their cloaks to share heat. Their very nature led them to be resistant to the elements, but even immortals could feel the sting of winter if it grew cold enough. Legolas pulled away, curling up under his cloak and Elrohir didn't pursue him, understanding that the last thing he really wanted was contact. They slept uneasily in uncomfortable silence.

In the morning, they rose stiffly, Elrohir approaching the horse first to calm it. The steed made a rumbling noise and flattened his ears to his head, shying from his touch slightly. The raven-haired elf assumed that he had spent too much time around Legolas and picked up a little of his scent. He vaulted easily to its back, offering one hand to the blond to help him up. Legolas tried to mount behind him again, but found that he could no longer sit on the beast comfortably, his hips hinged incorrectly for proper riding. A bit hesitantly, he allowed Elrohir to pull him in front, turning him to ride sidesaddle.

The horse turned its head immediately, attempting to bite Legolas' leg. They had to pull rather savagely on the reigns to dissuade the beast from hurting him. Annoyed at his own horse's behavior, Elrohir kicked him sharply in the flank to get him moving. Though tired and stiff from the hard running, carrying two passengers no less, he started a weary canter and holding the pace for a few minutes until his muscles loosened. Only then did he allow his passengers to force him into a gallop.

Elrohir kept Legolas balanced with one arm around his waist, trying not to stare and make the blond even more uncomfortable. Legolas kept the hood of his cloak up and the Peredhil twin didn't have the heart to tell him that it enhanced the obviousness of the golden reflection in his eyes. It didn't even serve to hide the light fuzz that was creeping across his cheeks and down his neck or the lengthening of his jaw.

The ride was uneventful for a few hours, even in conversation. Noticing that his voice was getting hoarse and that he had developed a lisp from his new jaws, Legolas refused to speak. The silence was broken only by his breathing. A small rasping wheeze in the morning turned into pained gasps by early afternoon. Elrohir sighed, refusing to accept a headshake or the phrase 'I'm fine' any longer.

"What's wrong?" he asked, tone firm. If he answered in the same way he had been for the last few hours, Elrohir swore that he was going to kink his newly acquired tail.

"I can't breathe," Legolas admitted.

Elrohir resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the statement of the blatantly obvious, pulling the horse to a halt. The stallion stood with legs splayed, head drooping and chest heaving. Elrohir slipped his free arm into Legolas' shirt, apologizing softly when he jumped. He frowned at the sheer amount of fur his fingers encountered, but stayed on task, pressing his fingers against his abdomen. Feeling the flutter of the abdomen, he moved his fingers higher, running his palm curiously over the prominent sternum.

"Your bone structure is changing," Elrohir pronounced, pressing his hand against the blonde's chest. "Your ribcage is becoming more triangular." There was nothing he could do for the Mirkwood prince and they both knew it.

Smacking the horse's flank, he started them moving again, wishing he had access to a fresh mount. Even if the animal could keep up the pace, they were still at least three days from Imladris. With the speed Legolas was falling in to the strange illness, they would never reach Elrond in time. By the dejected way Legolas slumped against him, Elrohir knew that he suspected the same. He spurred the horse to go faster, ignoring the lather building up on his coat. They didn't stop until a few hours after nightfall when the horse collapsed under the strain, chest heaving.

Elrohir grew very worried when Legolas jumped down, landing on all fours and walking a little ways from the horse before lying down. He made no move to keep his appearance hidden, not even to cover his long bushy tail with his cloak. He slid down to the earth, walking over to his friend's side and squatting down beside him, trying to get a look at him past the cloak.

"Legolas?" he asked softly. Blue eyes looked at him from a wolf's face, glinting golden when they caught the moonlight. No trace of elfish intelligence remained in the gaze and Elrohir withdrew a little, understanding that the race against time was over. They hadn't made it. His suspicions were confirmed when Legolas swiveled his head to pull at the clothes he was still wearing with his teeth.

Heaving a sigh, he started back to his horse to retrieve his sword, hating himself for what he knew he had to do. Legolas wasn't an elf anymore and the disease he carried was too dangerous to allow it to be released into Middle Earth. In five days, it had reduced an immortal to an animal. Two days incubation and three of painful, humiliating transformation that robbed the infected of both body and mind.

The stallion reared when he neared, lashing out at him with his hooves with the last of his strength. Elrohir yanked his head down by the reigns angrily, snatching his sword from where it was hanging from the packs. He spun quickly when he heard rustling underbrush, glimpsing the tip of a golden tail as Legolas vanished into the darkness.

_So he's not as far gone as I thought,_ Elrohir mused darkly. He had planned to creep up on him and finish him off cleanly, but the short scuffle with the horse had alerted him to run before he could manage it.

Sighing, Elrohir hobbled the horse and climbed a nearby tree to sleep in the branches for the night. He knew that he had no chance at all to actually find the blond wolf in the dark and didn't like the thought of sleeping on the ground if Legolas wasn't in his right mind. In the morning, he'd start for Imladris to recruit help in hunting down the renegade transformed elf.

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	2. Chapter 2

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After sunrise, Elrohir scanned the area from his perch and decided that Legolas wasn't around. He leapt from the tree and landed lightly, shocking his steed into rearing and screaming. Being hobbled, he didn't manage to get far. Elrohir kept a grip on the reins and managed to get him to behave before he removed the hobble and climbed on. Thoroughly exhausted, the horse immediately gave in and moved back to the trail at full speed, ears flattened to his head.

As the horse galloped, he couldn't help thinking about his friend and the horribly painful events that he had witnessed. He couldn't even imagine what it had been like for him, the constant fear in his eyes ever since discovering the length of fur running down his spine. Reflexively, he ran his hand across the back of his neck. And immediately hauled his horse to a skidding halt. Trembling, he ran his fingers through a slender strip of fur along his spine, starting at his hairline and ending just between his shoulder blades.

"Sweet Eru," he breathed, silver eyes wide. He dragged his thoughts back across the last few days, trying to figure out when he had been infected. He nearly slapped himself when he remembered that he had been so stupid as to share a flask with Legolas. Never before in his life had he had to worry about getting ill, and caution about something so mundane just never crossed his mind.

"Ada," he whispered, desperately yearning for his father. He understood then just how terrified Legolas had been, heart hammering almost painfully in his chest. He kicked the chestnut stallion into action, now comprehending why the horse had been acting up.

He kept the steed running through the day and night alike, pressing for time even with the knowledge that he was running the animal to death. As the hours passed, he noticed that he could smell the sweat covering the horse and the scent of its fear. He steered his mount effortlessly through the dark, his vision growing ever sharper. He tried to ignore his body changing under him, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it. He was forced to acknowledge that he had grown a tail when it pressed painfully against his breeches, and then only long enough to cut a small hole in the back of his pants with his dagger. He accidentally nicked himself since he was atop a galloping horse.

The morning of the fifth day came after a long night of riding. The horse was barely on his feet, stumbling with every step. Tripping on a rock, it collapsed and made no move to get back up. Elrohir removed the harness and got off, knowing that the animal was of no more use. He left it where it laid, taking his weapons and a small amount of lembas with him as he jogged off. After a few hours, the sound of approaching hooves could be heard to the left and Elrohir's ear automatically swiveled towards the source.

Turning, he ran towards the sound, bursting out of the trees and charging the group of five elves he saw. He recognized Elladan, Elrond and Glorfindel immediately, but the two swordsmen with them, he did not. He must have shocked the group with his sudden, silent arrival, because Glorfindel had his bow up and fired a shot before he had taken three steps.

"Ada!" he called, throwing himself to the side to avoid the arrow.

"Hold your fire!" Elladan ordered, charging towards him. Elrond took a moment longer to follow, too stunned by the sight of his son to react as quickly. "What happened? Where's Legolas?"

"He lost his mind and ran off a day and a half ago," Elrohir panted.

He quickly relayed the events of the past few days, a little embarrassed when he admitted how he had been infected. Elrond checked him over tensely as he spoke, his mouth set in a grim line. He gripped the ankle-length tail a little too firmly and Elrohir jumped. The rapid inspection revealed matching wolf ears, rather prominent fangs, claws, fur down his spine and a line down his abdomen. He was relieved that he hadn't regressed too far, but Elrond was livid, not speaking to him at all while he dug through his bags.

"You can help him, right?" Elladan asked, looking worried. Elrond didn't respond, his face a stony mask.

"Ada?" Elrohir asked, voice tinged with panic.

"I'm not sure," Elrond sighed. "It's been fifteen hundred years since I've seen anything like this and only then among the race of men. But it did not proceed like this. I had not known that an elf could fall victim to it."

"But there is a cure?" Elrohir pressed.

"Nay," Elrond admitted. "All I can do is strengthen your immune system and pray that your natural constitution will protect you. No elf in history has ever fallen to disease. I do not want to be the first to document a case."

"What about Legolas," Elladan interrupted. "We can't let him run loose."

"I'll find him," Glorfindel announced. "Where was he last?"

Elrohir did his best to give detailed instructions to the small clearing where he had last seen the blond archer. Waving the two swordsmen with him, Glorfindel galloped off. Elrohir watched him go, a little regretful that he had given the blond warrior accurate instructions. He felt bad that it was necessary to kill the Mirkwood prince, but the infection was dangerous and they couldn't risk that it would spread to others. The possibility of his own ability to recover worried him. He knew it was possible that he may have to share his friend's fate. From the anguished look in his father's eyes, Elrond knew it as well.

Elrond handed him a brew that he had made and he winced at the smell of it, dreading what it would taste like. It was so bitter that his tongue curled, and he gulped it quickly, eager to be done with it. He winced at the queasiness it caused. If it strengthened his immune system as Elrond thought it would, then he'd have to suffer through it.

"How much of this am I going to have to drink?" he asked, handing the cup back in distaste.

"A glass every morning and evening until you recover," Elrond said. _If you recover_.

It took both Elrond and Elladan to hold one of the horses so he could mount. Elrohir tried to break the silence that had descended on the group.

"What happened to the mare you were riding?"

"Killed her from strain," Elladan said. "Had to run the last few miles on foot." He sighed. "What about your steed?"

"Collapsed a few hours ago. I left him where he fell," Elrohir responded. Elladan mounted behind him as he spoke. He yelped loudly and jerked forward, startling his brother into losing his balance and causing the horse to buck. The combination of the two resulted in Elladan being thrown off. The horse might have bolted had Elrond not been standing nearby, catching it by the muzzle.

"What was that about?" Elladan asked indignantly, getting up stiffly.

"You sat on my tail!"

Elrond eyed the lump under Elrohir's cloak that was the hidden appendage that Elladan had accidentally crushed. "Perhaps you should ride with me," he told Elladan, frowning. _I've already lost one son to this. I'll not lose the other._

The twins understood the unspoken thought and fell silent. Though doubtful of his ability to control his mount, Elrohir kicked his horse forward, starting the journey back home while his father and brother mounted. They were only a day out, but all three wanted to return as quickly as possible. The remainder of the trip was made in silence.

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Legolas ran clumsily through the darkness, tripping on his newly furry feet. Once he was certain that Elrohir hadn't tried to follow him, he slowed to a stop and started pulling at his clothes again. In the form of an enormous wolf, clothes were rather uncomfortable, and with fur, much too hot. He didn't fancy the necessity of using his teeth, but the lack of fingers left him no other choice. For hours, he had been debating the decision to remove his attire, only giving in to the temptation to free himself from the irritation when they stopped for the night. It had never crossed his waking mind that it would have such an effect on his companion.

Freed from the restrictive garments, he jogged back to where he had left Elrohir, hoping that the raven-haired elf had calmed down and put away the sword. His companion had mistaken the panicked look in his eyes for something else and had rashly attacked. Upon arrival at the makeshift campsite, he was shocked to find Elrohir sleeping in the branches of a large pine tree.

_He's afraid of me,_ Legolas realized. He stood motionless for a few minutes, finally turning to lie down under a nearby bush for the night.

In the morning, he saw Elrohir scanning the area for him, looking afraid. Legolas hesitated in coming out, wondering if the Peredhil would attack him again. When Elrohir mounted his horse, seemingly having trouble controlling the animal, he came out to try his luck. Though Elrohir didn't see him, the horse did and bolted. Since he had been trying to get it to move anyways, the twin didn't sense anything suspicious about the sudden obedience of his mount.

Still getting used to his new form, he was too clumsy to run at full capacity and couldn't keep pace with the charging horse. He watched the pair disappear, wondering what to do. No matter where he went, odds were that he would be shot before anyone realized who he was. He needed help, but going after it was certain death. In a stuttering lope, he started towards Imladris, hoping that he could catch one of the twins on the road before they got to the city. If he was careful, he hoped he could convince them that he was still lucid.

Pressing for speed, he very nearly caught up with the twins. He paused for a breather when he came upon the downed steed that Elrohir had been riding, the animal asleep from sheer exhaustion. He looked over the trembling beast, wondering if it would survive the effort it had put forth. After so many days of running with no rest, no food and no water, it would suffer greatly if it did survive.

Hearing hoof beats approaching at a rapid pace, he looked up. He could hear three distinct sets and his thoughts immediately led him to think that it was the twins and their father. He reconsidered when he remembered that Elrohir had lost his mount. Taking a hesitant step backwards, he started studying the area, noting with alarm that there was no decent place to hide. Had he still had the advantage of hands, he'd have taken to the treetops. His brows drew together at the notion.

_By the Valar, I'm a wood elf! We can climb a tree hogtied!_

He'd proven that on a drunken bet once and had garnered a lot of gold for his efforts.

Eying a massive pine tree, he contemplated the arrangement of branches. With a quick running leap, he repelled off of the trunk and stretched for the lowest branch, managing to hook one wrist and one elbow around the thick limb. Using his elbow in such a fashion forced him to roll his arm at an odd angle, putting a lot of stress on his shoulder, but he persisted to keep his hold. Kicking out with his legs against the trunk to gain altitude, he hooked the arm nearer the trunk up to his armpit, swinging his legs up to wrap a leg over the branch. He gained an ungainly position on his belly on the limb, careful to get his feet steadily beneath him before raising his gaze. Using the same methodology, he continued his way up the tree until he had reached the upper branches.

He managed to vanish into the foliage just in time, three armed elves on horseback spinning to a halt beside the downed stallion. Nothing to be done for the weary horse, they moved off. Knowing that they were hunting an elf turned wolf, it never occurred to them to look up and they entirely missed Legolas' presence.

For his part, Legolas watched the three ride off, eyeing their drawn weapons. It didn't escape his notice that Glorfindel was with them. He easily recognized the legendary warrior and was more than a little worried that such an esteemed figure led the hunt for his head. Imladris was not an option any longer. Giving the departing elves nearly an hour, he climbed down, jumping from one branch to another. On his third leap, he lost his footing and tumbled from the branches, landing in an ungainly heap beside the downed horse and startling it into lurching to its feet. It staggered a few steps away.

Bruised and stiff, Legolas regained his feet and started towards his home in Mirkwood. He swayed his path wide to avoid the three hunters looking for him. He wasn't sure what he would do when he got there, but he had nowhere else to turn.

--------

The Peredhil family made it back to the Last Homely Home without incident, upon which time Elrohir was quarantined to his room. Under Elrond's treatment, his transformation slowed greatly, but the fur was spreading still. He never protested the daily examinations until his nether regions were affected, at which point he squirmed relentlessly under the scrutiny he was under.

Deeply upset by what he was witnessing, Elrond increased the dosage of the tonic he was giving his son even though he knew that it would do no good. When his ribs began to bow outwards, he was forced to withhold treatment so that he would alter faster. He didn't want it to happen, but he had to let his son's ribcage to shift so he could breathe. It nearly killed him when he finally admitted to himself that it was useless. His heart almost broke from the knowledge that one of his children was going to die by his own hands. He couldn't allow Elrohir to remain as he was and he couldn't bring himself to let someone else end it.

Glorfindel and the two soldiers returned within the week, entirely unsuccessful in finding Legolas, the blond wolf dancing circles around their efforts. The only news of him they could offer was that he had turned up in Mirkwood and run off quickly after both his older brother and father attempted to kill him.

The balrog slayer bore worse news than Elrond was prepared to hear. The blond had attempted to inform the royal family of their son's fate upon learning about his attempt to return home. They had reacted very badly, blaming the Noldor elves for what had happened. Elrohir for faltering in battle and Elrond for being unable to reach him in time or to help him. Thranduil had declared war.

Troubled by everything that was happening, Elrond went to see his son, knowing well that every visit could be his last. It was past midnight, but he didn't doubt that Elrohir would still be awake. He found himself facing a jet-black wolf standing on the balcony and gazing longingly at the city below him with longing eyes. Hearing his father enter, he glanced back at him with silver eyes. Elrond took a deep breath.

"Elrohir," he began sadly, not even sure if his son could understand him. "You know what has to be done."

The silvery gaze dropped. Elrond knelt beside him, resting one hand on his shoulders. He knotted his fingers in the silken fur when he felt the faint trembling under his palm. Drawing his dagger, he pressed the blade against the base of Elrohir's skull, preparing to kill him with one swift thrust.

_I don't want to die,_ Elrohir thought, shocked by the revelation. He'd rather spend his life as a warped creature than to end his existence.

Ducking into a roll, he dodged out of his stunned father's grasp and ran. He leapt off the balcony and landed on the cobbled ground with a stiff bounce, scaring the wits out of some hapless elf that had been standing guard. Knowing that there were few that would refrain from slaughtering him, he ran, pressing himself to the limits of his strength and speed to escape Rivendell, the occasional arrow whizzing by his sprinting form. It was nothing short of a miracle that allowed him to disappear into the night, escaping largely due to his midnight black coat.

Elrohir trembled as he ran, barely beginning to understand the implications of his rash decision. He was without a home, allies or food, running blindly through the night into unknown woods. His back stung from a patch of lost hair that had been pulled out when he had rolled out of his father's grip. Blood trickled down his neck from a nick from the dagger that had been pressed to his head.

He ran east to the Misty Mountains, knowing that he would be able to hide there.

--------

Legolas lay in a small cave, idly watching the sunrise and wondering what he would do. He hadn't eaten for the six days since he had been in Mirkwood, and only then had he managed to snipe a few apples from nearby orchards, the fruit making him sick to his stomach. Though repulsed by the thought, he had chased the occasional squirrel or rabbit, but had yet to catch one.

For lack of a better course, he gradually worked his way west, debating the wisdom of going to Rivendell. From the opening of the cave near a cliff top, he peered towards the city he was loathe to approach, watching curiously as a black streak ran up the mountainside.

_What is that?_ Legolas wondered, dragging himself to his feet. _Too dark for the deer in the area and too large to be a wild boar. A horse maybe?_

He trotted towards the approaching figure, considering taking it down as food. He wouldn't do it if the creature was indeed a horse, still holding too much respect for the animals to even contemplate eating one. Shock ran through him when he saw that it was another enormous wolf, easily the same size as himself. Not ready to take on another predator, he shied away.

The color of the wolf didn't surprise him overly, but the shocking silver eyes did. Amazed by his own temerity, he approached the midnight wolf.

_Elrohir?_ Legolas thought, astounded. Silver eyes turned to him, equally shocked, the wolf coming to a skidding halt a short distance from him.

_Legolas?_

Cerulean eyes widened. _You can hear me?_

_It would appear so, unless I've lost my mind,_ Elrohir answered.

_I didn't know you'd been infected as well. What happened?_

_My fault,_ Elrohir said before Legolas could blame himself. _Shared the water flask with you the second day on the road. I should have been more careful._

_It's that contagious?_

_Apparently so._

_What about Elladan?_

_No one else was infected, just us,_ Elrohir said. He paused, eyeing Legolas askance. _Why were you pulling at your clothes with your teeth? I thought you'd lost your mind._

_Judging from your state of undress, I'd say you've noticed how uncomfortable clothes are now._

_But your teeth?_

_Notice the lack of fingers,_ Legolas commented wryly. Elrohir guffawed at his ability to joke around, even in their state. The blond wolf sniffed at the other, ears twitching. _Why do you smell of blood?_

Elrohir shook his head dismissively, not wanting to tell his friend that his father had planned to kill him and had very nearly succeeded. The human gesture looked sorely out of place on a wolf. A change in scent accompanying the motion told Legolas that the subject upset his friend and was not one to be broached. He willingly dropped the question and changed to a safer subject.

_I was trying to hunt when I saw you,_ Legolas said. _I've had no luck._

_You're actually going to eat a small creature?_ Elrohir asked, shocked.

_We're going to have to. In a week or so, you'll see it my way too._

Elrohir grunted. _I thought you looked thin,_ he said. _You're right, though. Must be harder than it looks if you haven't succeeded yet._

_I'm too slow,_ Legolas admitted.

_We can work together to corner something,_ Elrohir offered. He started jogging, leaving Legolas no option but to follow or appear rude. _What type of game is in the mountains?_

_I haven't seen much. Honestly, I think that most everything is avoiding me._

Nodding again, Elrohir led the way into some trees. After an hour, and several fruitless chases, they managed to trap a large hare between them. Legolas hesitated in taking it into his mouth to kill it and it almost got away but Elrohir leapt on it, breaking its back. They both stared at it for a moment.

_Help yourself,_ Elrohir offered. He knew that the blond hadn't eaten in much longer than himself. That and he wasn't really that eager to sample raw meat.

Legolas didn't respond verbally, ears flattening to his head. He made several false starts, hungry but not really wanting to bite into it. Elrohir snickered at the look of revulsion on his companion's face.

_Oh, shut up._

Mostly to stop his friend from laughing at him, he almost delicately nipped at it, not using enough force to even bruise the flesh. Elrohir laughed louder, the sound rather guttural from a wolf's throat. Legolas glared, blue eyes flashing in ire and Elrohir finally took pity on him.

_I'll try it if you will,_ he offered companionably. Legolas nodded in acceptance.

Goading each other on, neither would be able to back out without losing face. Elrohir found it was actually harder than he had thought to make himself bite the hare, hesitantly closing his jaws until skin popped under his teeth, flooding his mouth with blood. He dropped his hold and actually jumped back a little from the kill. Trying to show him up, Legolas closed his eyes and pinned the body with one foot, using his teeth to pull back the skin on one leg. He too flinched at the new taste but he didn't pull away, too hungry to give up immediately. He didn't watch what he was doing, not looking at what he was doing in a bid to keep his mind off it. After only a few tentative bites, he gave up.

_Keep going,_ Elrohir prompted. _You need the food._

_What happened to you trying?_

_I did try. Didn't like it._

Legolas glared, a bit jealous that the hare's blood didn't show on Elrohir like he was sure it did in his own golden fur.

_You're going to have to do this too._

_Don't want to,_ Elrohir pouted, but he did give in. Sighing, he mimicked Legolas' style and held it down with one foot while he stripped the front legs of flesh. Wrinkling his nose, he relinquished the body to the blond.

Feeling remotely better than he had after the few little bites he had managed, Legolas accepted more readily. Knowing that it would probably gross his companion out beyond words, he ripped open the belly and bolted the innards, not bothering to chew anything.

_Ew._

Legolas ignored the commentary, having expected it. The novelty of the experience had lost its edge and he finished stripping the body of flesh. Elrohir let him have it, both knowing that the blond needed it more and not really wanting it himself. He waited patiently until the hare was stripped before speaking again.

_Is there a stream around here?_

_There's a small tributary to the Great River a ways north of here,_ Legolas said.

_Good. I'd like to wash off._

Legolas led him to a small stream where if welled from a spring in a mass of rocks. He dunked his head in, trying to get the blood out of his fur. It was ice cold and he pulled out rather quickly, shaking his head a bit awkwardly to try to flick out some of the water. He chuckled when Elrohir hopped in a few feet downstream and immediately got back out with a high-pitched yelp.

_By the way, it's cold,_ Legolas offered. Elrohir growled menacingly.

He climbed back in the water, creating a pink eddy in his wake. After a few minutes, he couldn't take the biting cold and he got back onto the rocks, shaking a little awkwardly. The maneuver was so clumsy that he didn't succeed in getting much water out of his fur. Taking a drink at the source of the spring, the two departed.

Each was silently glad that the other was there. Alone, they would have faded from misery and loneliness if they didn't starve to death first. Only joint efforts allowed them to catch any prey the first few weeks and being stuck in warped forms would have driven them both insane without sympathetic company. Most of their quarry consisted of small game, usually rabbits, squirrels and birds. It took them almost two months before they were capable of catching and taking down a small deer.

They found sixteen different caves and hollows over a large range of land, rotating where they stayed so that they didn't tax their food supply. After they adjusted to the extreme lifestyle change, they became vaguely content, completely unaware of the war between the Sindar and Noldor elves around them. The war had started after Legolas had run and Elrond hadn't possessed the heart to tell Elrohir. More than a year passed before they became aware of the situation, and only then by accident.

--------

To Be Continued…

R&R! Come on, you know you want to.

For any of you perverts interested, there is a side story to this called "Furry Interlude." If you couldn't guess, it's pure furry smut. It will have yaoi and bestiality with Elrohir/Legolas. It's left out of the main story to be kind to those individuals who are traumatized by the very thought of fluffy love. Be afraid. Be very afraid.


	3. Chapter 3

Legolas was prowling around at night, uneasy. He had scented blood in the air earlier in the day after they rotated to one of their more secluded caves. He was unable to sleep and had been wandering around since their arrival. Elrohir was running around as well, searching for the source of the scent. Legolas discovered it first.

A battlefield full of corpses met his sight, Sindar and Noldor elves alike. Hundreds lay dead, the ground crimson from blood. It had dried, indicating that the battle had occurred at least a day ago. Throwing back his head, the blond called his friend, letting loose a long mournful howl. Their telepathic capabilities didn't extend to great distances and he didn't know where Elrohir was. He wandered through the battlefield, letting loose the occasional cry to orient the raven-black wolf as he searched for survivors. There were none.

Elrohir loped up to him, silver eyes narrowing at the sight of the dead elves.

_What happened here?_ Elrohir asked.

_I don't know. There are only elves here and I can smell no orcs._

_The arrows are elfish. This is war,_ the raven-furred wolf said.

Legolas groaned, having wanted to reach any explanation but that. He lowered his head in respect for the fallen, gasping when he recognized one of the dead. _This is Thendar!_

_Our captain? By the Valar! Is my brother here?_

_I haven't seen him,_ Legolas answered, worried.

_Look._

Following the order, the blond began to work with his friend in a thorough search of the dead, making certain to check every elf. The search took him into the trees to study the profiles of the archers. A cliff caught his attention and he ran over to it, peering off the edge in realization that one of the two sides must have been pressed up against it. There were a number of forms at the bottom, elf and horse alike.

_I'm going down,_ Legolas called. Suiting action to his words, he leapt from the thirty-foot ledge, knowing that the landing would be uncomfortable but bearable. He circled the corpses quickly, cursing to himself when he recognized Elladan, one leg pinned under the body of a dead horse. _He's down here!_

_Eru… no… Is he alive?_

Legolas nudged the sable-haired elf, letting out a shaky breath when he earned himself a pained groan. _He's alive!_

There was a thud as Elrohir landed after his own leap, running over to the pair. In unspoken coordination, they each latched onto a leg of the horse and started lugging the animal off of Elladan. The pinned leg seemed to have an extra joint mid shin, both tibia and fibula broken. They winced in sympathy.

_Brother! Brother, wake up!_

_I'm not certain he can hear you like I can,_ Legolas said. Elrohir grunted in acknowledgement that he had heard the blond.

Elladan roused, sensing their presence. In his pain, his first response was to lash out and he nearly slit Legolas in half with his blade, the prince barely dancing out of his range in time. Elrohir moved back before his twin could turn to go for him as well. For a moment, the injured elf just looked around, trembling and panting. The two wolves belatedly remembered that he would be unable to see them in the dark and probably wouldn't trust them even if he could see them.

After a minute, Elladan called out tentatively. "Hello?"

_It's just us,_ Elrohir called.

_How would he know who we are from a simple telepathic call?_

_Doesn't matter. You were right. He can't hear us,_ Elrohir sighed.

_He needs help._

_I know. But I don't know how to get it to him. We can't talk to anyone, and even if we got someone to chase us out here, we'd never make the trip without being shot. Assuming that he even survived that long,_ Elrohir groaned, distraught.

_No guts, no glory, right?_

Before Elrohir could ask what he meant, Legolas charged in, nearly catching the business end of Elladan's sword again. He nuzzled the elf and whimpered, playing the perfect pet dog routine. Elrohir snorted, amused with the ploy. It was even funnier since Elladan seemed to buy it, raising his free hand to pet the blond.

"Big one, aren't you?" Elladan said, looping one arm around Legolas' shoulders to help himself sit up. "Who's your friend?" He looked in Elrohir's general direction. "Come."

_Come?_ Elrohir asked, blinking.

_Get over here. He needs to calm down a bit. No use scaring him,_ Legolas said. Elrohir let loose a guttural chuckle, but moved over to his twin, letting his brother pet him for a few seconds before shrugging off the strange touch.

"Lay down," Elladan told Legolas, deeming him the tamer of the two.

_Yes, boy. Lay down like a good dog,_ Elrohir taunted.

_Shut up,_ Legolas returned. As Elladan ordered, he flattened himself to the ground, unsure of what the elf wanted. He was shocked when his friend pulled himself onto his back as though he were a horse, lying along the length of his spine.

"Go home," Elladan ordered.

_Ah, I see now,_ Legolas said. _He's been here for awhile and can't walk. He needs to be carried back. Never imagined that he'd try this._

_How does he even know where your home is? You could head anywhere._

_I don't think he cares at this point,_ Legolas said. _Who knows how long he's been out here?_ He grunted with the effort of standing up under the elf's weight, but managed it after a bit of struggling. Trying to keep his movements smooth, he started a careful lope towards Rivendell, Elrohir falling in beside him automatically. Elladan passed out again after a few minutes, causing the two elfin wolves to worry immensely.

--------

Legolas was panting, exhausted, when Elladan finally regained consciousness. Sensing the movement, he moved to the side of the trail and gently wilted to the earth, rolling sideways to spill the elf onto his uninjured side. The sun had risen a few degrees up the horizon, spilling light onto the trio.

_He awake yet?_ Legolas huffed.

_I think so._

"Good… dog," Elladan said, his compliment trailing off when he eyed the two former elves. His silver eyes widened in wonderment. "You're wolves. Who would train wolves?"

_Who indeed?_ Elrohir commented, amused.

_I give him less than twenty seconds to get it,_ Legolas teased.

_Odds?_

_First dibs on the next buck._

_You're on._

It was very close as to who won the bet. Elladan stared at Legolas for a moment, a bit startled by his unusual coloration, both in the color of his fur and eyes. He glanced at Elrohir seconds later and recoiled visibly. Understanding dawned in his eyes, accompanied by fear and heartbreak.

"Elrohir? Legolas?" he asked hesitantly, disbelievingly, voice so soft that he could barely hear himself. Both former elves inclined their heads in recognition. "Sweet Eru… it can't be…"

Elrohir was the first to move, laying one paw on his twin's wrist when he unwittingly reached for his sword. He flinched away, gray eyes filling with tears. When Legolas flanked him, offering his shoulder again, Elladan broke down, his tears finally overflowing and spilling glittering tracks down his cheeks. Elrohir collected his brother up in one forelimb, pulling his twin to him. The elf willingly wilted into the wolf's arms, trembling.

"I thought you were dead," he breathed. Belatedly, he reached out and drew Legolas into the hug, the blond accepting the embrace without hesitation. He gripped Legolas fiercely. "Can you stop this?" Legolas hesitated, knowing what the elf was asking but wondering how much influence he had in the war.

_I can try,_ Legolas said, knowing that the elf couldn't hear him. He rotated his head to indicate that he could not answer the question. He didn't know if he still had the ability to influence his father. Elladan seemed not to understand the answer and he redirected his line of questioning to a yes-no format.

"Can you understand me?"

Legolas nodded. Elladan stepped up his questioning with renewed respect for his understanding.

"Do you know why your father started a war?"

He shook his head, not knowing the events that led to war but not overly surprised that it was his father that had initiated it.

"He blamed Elrohir and Elrond for what happened to you," Elladan told Legolas. The blond shifted, averting his gaze and wilting slightly. Seeing the prince's reaction, he leaned forward and embraced his comrade. "I'm so sorry…"

_Not your fault my father has a temper,_ Legolas said. Elrohir nudged him away from his brother and laid down. Taking the hint, Elladan rolled onto his back, letting his twin carry him to allow the blond to have a rest.

_Lets get him home,_ Elrohir said, grunting when he got to his feet. _You're right. He's going on a diet._

_Ah, but then he'd lose the gut that you two still seem to have in common,_ Legolas said, taking the opportunity to lighten the mood.

_Hey!_

Elladan looked thoroughly bewildered when the two wolves both started laughing.

It took a few days of travel and repeated alterations of who carried Elladan before the trio arrived in Rivendell. Most of the first day had passed by before he understood that the two wolves were communicating by telepathy. The two considerately never ate in front of him, sure that he wouldn't appreciate the sight. They did bring back things for him a few times, but he refused to touch anything they had killed, fearing infection.

--------

It was the dead of night when they arrived at the Last Homely Home. Legolas was taking his turn at carrying the injured elf.

"Take me to the infirmary. Father spends most of his time there since the war began," Elladan said.

_Where is the infirmary?_ Legolas asked.

_Just follow me,_ Elrohir said, leading the way.

By unspoken agreement, they stopped outside of the entrance, staying out of sight. Elladan shakily stood up on one leg, leaning heavily against the wall. His injuries and lack of sustenance over the course of several days had weakened him severely.

"Just wait in my room. I'll break the situation to Ada gently," Elladan said.

_No way are we staying in the city!_ Legolas protested. _We'll be slaughtered._

_This war was started because of us,_ Elrohir said firmly. _We're staying._

_We need to convince my father to knock it off, not yours._

_We need my father so we can approach yours without being shot._

_Fair enough, but I'm not sure he's going to be able to help with that particular difficulty,_ Legolas capitulated. He followed Elrohir when the sable wolf ran for his twin's room. Elladan waited until they were gone before he hopped into the infirmary, eyes immediately latching onto his father.

"Ada," he called. Elrond turned, eyes widening at the sight of his son. Elladan was a mess, thoroughly covered in dried blood and his leg twisted at a weird angle. Even then, Elrond had never looked so relieved.

"You're alive," he breathed. "I thought your troop had been killed."

"It was," Elladan said, accepting the help when Elrond looped an arm around him and led him to a chair. "I'm the only one that survived."

"How did you get back?" Elrond pressed, knowing that he couldn't have walked and not having heard any hoof beats outside. He paused in checking his son's leg when he didn't get an answer immediately. "Elladan?"

"I had help," the twin responded. "I was found and carried back."

"By who?" Elrond asked, looking irritated. "Where is he? He shouldn't have left you."

"They're waiting elsewhere to speak to us," Elladan answered evasively, wincing when Elrond touched his broken leg.

"Sorry," Elrond said reflexively, hating the fact that he had to cause his patients pain in order to help them. "Why did they deem it necessary to abandon you?"

"They feared an adverse reaction to their presence," Elladan answered honestly.

"Whatever for? Are they Silvan?"

"One of them is."

"And the other?"

"Doesn't look like your average elf," Elladan said, still evading details. Elrond noted his behavior and frowned.

"Who are they?" he asked bluntly.

"I'll tell you after you've set my leg," Elladan said. Grunting in response, Elrond did just that, apologizing again when his son swayed, lightheaded. He strapped a splint in place and glared sternly at his son.

"Who?" he asked again. Elladan took an unsteady breath before answering.

"Elrohir and Legolas," he finally said. Elrond went dangerously still.

"They're both alive?" he asked tersely. Elladan nodded once. His lip curled. "Where are they?"

"They need our help," Elladan said, again avoiding answering.

"I will not allow those creatures…"

"They're in full possession of their facultative capabilities," Elladan interrupted stiffly. "And it's hardly their fault what happened."

"Indeed," Elrond murmured contemplatively. The news that his other son was alive and mentally fit stunned him beyond words. Knowing that they had lived as animals for over a year confused him. Elves could not live in such conditions, but the pair had somehow managed. Elrond's countenance softened. "Are they hurt?"

Elladan wilted visibly in relief at his father's surrender. "No. They're fine." He looked away. "In fact, they seem… content."

Elrond nodded, dropping his gaze to the splinted leg. "Where are they?"

"You won't hurt them?" Elladan asked hesitantly, knowing what had transpired between his father and brother at their last encounter.

"No," Elrond said immediately.

"They're in my quarters," Elladan said, trusting his response.

"Very well," Elrond muttered, helping his son to his feet. Inwardly annoyed at the slow hobbling pace, he swept his son up into his arms, carrying him while ignoring the dirty look that his actions earned him.

--------

Glorfindel was conversing with Erestor when the wolves passed by in the hall silently, both tensing and reaching for their weapons when they spotted the pair. Not realizing that they had been seen, the duo continued their trek to Elladan's room, unaware that two warriors were following them. Erestor and Glorfindel knew who they were and what had happened to them, but not that they were lucid. Their last standing orders had been to kill them both on sight.

Both elves recognized the wolves, knowing who they were. Not knowing that they were still competent, they charged the room, swords drawn. The two wolves dodged admirably for several seconds before Glorfindel managed to clip Legolas with the tip of his blade, slitting his side from shoulder to hip. Crying out, the blond faltered, leaving him vulnerable to the attacking elves. Erestor was quick to close in, thrusting his blade down in an overhand maneuver that skewered the golden wolf.

In agony, Legolas collapsed, fiery pain leeching out from the hole in his chest. Every muscle in his body tensed reflexively and he shuddered, wilting to the floor. He curled into a ball on his side, fighting to breathe. He couldn't understand why the two elves didn't close in and finish him off, his mind foggy from pain. It was something of a shock when he noticed that Erestor's sword was still lodged through him and confusing when he realized that all three of the other figures in the room were staring at him with wide eyes.

_Legolas?_ Elrohir asked in disbelief.

_Sweet Eru, this hurts,_ Legolas said distractedly. He curled one arm to his chest, fingers lacing around the protruding blade. He went very still, eyes widening. Fingers?

Regaining his elfin form was the only thing that saved Legolas' life, shock holding Glorfindel from turning his blade on either of the two younger elves. A naked bloody elf was not a common sight and it stayed their hands just long enough for Elrond and Elladan to come into the scene. Erestor found himself with an armful of elf when Elrond stuffed his injured son into his hands to free up his own.

"Out of the way," Elrond said reflexively, trying to examine the wound despite his patient being curled up around it.

"Ro…" Legolas managed in a hoarse voice. Elrohir moved to his side at the short nickname, not protesting the touch when Legolas curled one fist forcefully in his fur. Tasting blood from his airways, he gave up trying to speak aloud. _Tense your muscles._

_What?_ Elrohir asked, confused.

_Tense. I know how to turn back,_ Legolas said. He was desperate to relay the information in case he didn't survive.

_I don't know what you're referring to,_ Elrohir said. _How…_

Legolas lashed out with his mind, pressing into the raven wolf's thoughts. Elrohir allowed him full access, grunting in pain when fire raced through him. Much more slowly than Legolas had managed it, his appearance started to twist, punctuating the room with several loud pops. He finally understood and took over. It was so intrinsic to his very being that he had never even felt out the sensation. It was the warmth in his skin, the gentle pulsation of his heart, the sweet feel of oxygen in his lungs. A slightly muffled feeling fell over him and he latched onto it mercilessly. It was rapture. It was agony. It was his very essence of his life. Legolas had lashed out blindly at the mortal wound he had taken, but Elrohir was forced to think of what he was doing.

The sight he presented to his audience was nothing short of spectacular. In Legolas' mental grip, he writhed, shimmering in the darkened room. What seemed like eternity for him was only a few seconds, his fur receding and body restructuring rapidly. Long hair spilled down his shoulders and back. Elrohir gasped, half falling over. It took him several seconds to reorient himself enough to stagger to his feet, and even then he swayed at the long forgotten feeling of holding himself upright.

Elrond tried not to stare, not to cry in elation. His millennia of work barely gave him the steadiness to keep his attention on his patient. Later, after the blond was stabilized, he would throw a party and get very, very, very drunk.

"The sword has to come out," Elrond said, carefully gripping the hilt. He held his breath while he carefully drew it out, sympathetically wincing when Legolas tensed, throwing his head back.

"What are you three doing watching?" Elrohir barked. He wasn't surprised that his voice was just as hoarse as Legolas' had been. A year of not speaking wasn't conducive to vocal clarity. "Either help my father get Legolas to the infirmary or start bringing medical supplies here!"

"That… won't be necessary," Elrond said before anyone could move to obey or do more than gawk in surprise. His eyes were glued to Legolas' chest. The wound had already stopped bleeding. "Legolas?"

Cerulean eyes turned to him. "What?"

"Concentrate on your injury," Elrond said.

The blond glared, not wanting to think about the potentially mortal blow that had downed him. He did as asked, trying to sense the full scope of the stab wound. There was a collective gasp around the room and Legolas finally looked down at the injury with shocked blue eyes. It was closed and mostly healed.

"Control… it's a matter of control," Legolas said to himself. His eyes clouded over a little and he pressed, not entirely sure what he was doing. The stab wound almost vanished, leaving the faintest mark on the otherwise flawless flesh. He turned to the deep laceration down his side. The clean edges wavered and the mark disappeared in seconds. He couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his face.

"Incredible," Elrond murmured. He had been hoping for some degree of help in staunching the wound, but he had never imagined that the blond was all but untouchable to injury.

"Although I'm sure you're all stunned and amazed by recent events, I must insist on pants," Elrohir interjected, relief restoring his sense of humor. Motioning, Elladan convinced Erestor to put him down and assist him across the room to retrieve and extra clothes from his closet for the two nude elves.

"I simply wish to know how long you've been able to perform this act," Glorfindel said. "Because if I find out that you could have shifted in time to prevent me from striking you down, I'm going to stab you again out of principle."

"Technically, Erestor stabbed me," Legolas, gripping Elrond's shoulder to sit up. Erestor threw a towel at his head. He caught it swiped at the blood on his side. "But no, this is the first time we've managed."

"You were an animal," Erestor said in his defense. "Our last orders were to kill you both."

"What now?" Elrohir asked, dressing quickly.

"I would suggest that the two of you be quarantined," Elrond said. "In the morning, we ride to Mirkwood to negotiate a cessation of hostilities between our people." He studied the dressing prince with level eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Lightheaded, but fine," Legolas said. "A little sticky, I'm afraid. Sadly enough, I didn't even get to perform the normal necessary acts that lead to such a condition." The dirty comment earned him a snort from Elrohir and vaguely mortified looks from the rest of the room as they unintentionally pictured bouts of furry passion.

"Glorfindel, please tell a servant to ready a bath," Elrond said, the first to recover from the frightening mental imagery. The blond warrior nodded and stepped out of the room. "Erestor, take Elladan to guest quarters."

"What's wrong with mine?" Elladan asked.

"Your floor is covered in blood. Until it has been properly cleaned and sterilized, you should not be in here," Elrond said. "It's possible that Elrohir and Legolas may still be contagious."

"May?" Elrohir asked, quick to jump on the hesitation.

"I've done some research in the year you were gone," Elrond admitted. "The changes done to your bodies will be permanent, but the virus responsible may have been destroyed by your own natural resistance to diseases. I will have to test you both to be certain."

"How would we do that?" Legolas asked.

"We could just find someone we don't like and bite them. See what happens," Elrohir suggested in a perfectly serious voice.

"Ah, may I then recommend Erestor?" Legolas said. The dark-haired advisor glared at him and he responded with a smirk.

"No one's biting anyone," Elrond said in frustration. "All I need is a serum sample."

"Serum?"

"Blood," Elrond clarified. "I'll collect samples from both of you in the morning. For now, feel free to wash up and rest. Erestor, take Elladan to the guest room now. Elladan, quit arguing and go. Elrohir, go to your room and do something with Legolas."

Elrond departed to prepare for the morning. The elfin witch Galadriel had delivered a vial of a potion to him a month ago at his request. Combined with blood, it would glow brightly blue if the virus was present. If not, gold. It was a wonderful thing to have a sorceress among one's resources.

--------

To Be Continued…

R&R! Do it. Doooo iiiiit.


	4. Chapter 4

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Arriving at Elrohir's chambers, the werewolves went to the adjoining washroom, shucking clothes as they went. After living in the wild and bathing in icy creeks, hot water was like the Holy Grail. Having spent so long around each other in a number of compromising positions over the previous year, they didn't think anything of stripping in each other's presence and both climbing into the scented water. A bit stiff from the long run and the uncomfortable transformation, they had to wash each other's backs. Once clean, they lazed in the water idly until it began to cool.

"You never did tell me where you got this wound," Legolas said, twirling his fingers over a pale scar down the back of Elrohir's neck.

"Father," Elrohir answered hesitantly. "Same as the new one on your chest."

"No one here seems to care much for wolves," Legolas commented, climbing out of the tub. Not even realizing that he did it, he flicked his head to remove the excess water from his hair even as he reached for a towel. Elrohir saw the movement and chuckled.

"Old habits die hard," he laughed.

"So where am I staying for the night?" Legolas asked, walking into the conjoining room while he toweled his hair dry.

Elrohir entered the room to see Legolas holding up a set of nightclothes in contemplation. They'd gone so long without wearing a thing that it seemed almost unnatural.

"Here if you'd like," Elrohir offered. Legolas smiled thankfully at him, a little relieved to be with a friend in the strange realm. Seeing his uncertainty with the clothes, he extended his proposition further. "Just sleep in the nude. It won't bother me. I was actually considering doing the same."

"Thanks," Legolas said, tossing the garments into a nearby chair. He walked smoothly across the room to the tidy king size bed, hesitating a bit at the thought of getting into someone else's bed in the buff.

"Would you feel better if we were a little fuzzier?" Elrohir asked, grinning. They'd spent many nights as wolves stacked atop each other for warmth and comfort. It seemed natural that they continue the camaraderie.

"You wouldn't mind?"

"I'd actually appreciate it," Elrohir said, sounding a little embarrassed.

Still undressed from their recent baths, they stretched gently against their newfound abilities. Joints popped and skin shimmered, the forms stretching out into wolves. Although atop the bed, they hesitated further, both settling a little gingerly until Legolas was sprawled out on his side. Elrohir settled beside him and pillowed his head on the blonde's shoulder.

_My father is going to have kittens if he finds us like this,_ Elrohir said.

_Be sure I'm awake to see it,_ Legolas chuckled. Finally comfortable, the two dozed off.

--------

It was Glorfindel that came to rouse them in the morning. He didn't respond nearly as badly as he had the previous evening, though his hand did slip to the hilt of his sword. He tightened his grip to a tight fist when Elrohir got out of bed and approached him. Wanting a better reaction, he made sure he was out of immediate striking distance and growled, flattening his ears to his head and raising his hackles. Glorfindel jumped back several feet and drew his blade.

_Enough of that,_ Legolas said, getting up. He stretched to his full height, arching his back as he shifted into an elf once more. He snorted when he saw that Elrohir was still backing Glorfindel into a corner. "Stop teasing him!"

_But it's so fun,_ Elrohir laughed. He relented, shifting back to elf as he walked to his closet for an outfit. He found some garments that were a little too small on him, but would fit well on the smaller prince. At the far end of the room, the poor blond swordsman looked more than slightly flustered.

"I came to inform you to arrive at the infirmary immediately," Glorfindel said. "As elves, please." Seeing the glitter of amusement in one silver eye, he knew some sort of mischief was up. He knew the mindset of the twins very well. "Dressed," he added. The look was still there and he tried again. "I don't know what you're planning, but behave."

"Regards me highly, doesn't he?" Elrohir snorted.

"I take it you have a reputation," Legolas said from the side. Glorfindel jumped, not having seen him there. He wasn't used to anyone actually being able to sneak up on him and he eyed the pair suspiciously.

"We'll be right down," Elrohir said.

Still trying to figure out what they were up to, Glorfindel sidled out of the room before they could do whatever it was they were planning. Between the past exploits of the twins and the occasional story he had heard from traumatized Mirkwood elves, he knew that the first two had wicked senses of humor and suspected that the Mirkwood prince had the same capacity to cause trouble. Amused eyes followed him out and he hurried his pace, not noticing the subtle fiddling that his hair had undergone. Passing by quickly, Legolas had added a few knots to his golden tresses that marked the balrog slayer as a bride to be.

Collecting Elladan from his temporary quarters, he started for the infirmary himself. When the twin's eyes lit up at his arrival, he realized that whatever the youngsters were up to, he was the direct target. Sighing, he allowed the younger elf to lean on his shoulders as he hobbled down the hall. They were joined by a freshly dressed Elrohir and Legolas. Upon the arrival of the small group to the infirmary, Elrond smirked at them. Glorfindel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What did they do?"

Elrond helped Elladan up to the inspection table as he calmly answered. "Your hair," he said succinctly.

The blond warrior sighed and pulled out the new markings, giving the responsible pair an annoyed look. He took consolation that the early hour had protected him from being seen by many. Somehow, everyone in the room managed to keep from watching or snickering as Legolas snuck behind him and put the knots right back in while his attention was fixed on glaring at Elrohir, who he falsely assumed responsible. They chuckled after he left to ready their mounts for the journey to Mirkwood.

Elrond checked Elladan's leg, pronouncing that it was healing well. He thought that his son would be on his feet within a week. For his other two patients, he drew some blood from their inner elbows, watching with interest as the needle marks closed up and vanished in mere seconds. He added some of Galadriel's potion to each and they all watched with bated breaths' to see what would happen. She had left instructions on its use and notes on what the results would mean. Blue would mean that they were still contagious and gold that they were not.

Gold light flared from both vials. Crying out in joy, the twins embraced one another, Elrohir spinning Elladan around. Having no family around and seeing the twins occupied, Legolas leapt upon Elrond, the half elf accepting the hug with good grace. It was understandable that the pair was ecstatic. The news meant that they were out of quarantine and that they could go back to their lives. When the blond finally released him, his fingers automatically removed the new knots in his hair that marked him as a chambermaid. The blond prince grinned unrepentantly.

"Lets get to Mirkwood," Elrond said.

--------

After a hasty breakfast, the four met Glorfindel in the kitchens to pack food for the journey. Legolas had tried to talk them out of accompanying him to Mirkwood, but Elrond insisted.

_Say something to him!_ Legolas protested, turning his appeals to Elrohir.

_What would you have me say?_

_He's your father! Think of something!_

_I'm not sure if he'll listen, but I can try,_ Elrohir sighed. "Ada, I agree with Legolas. It would be safer to allow him to see his father on his own."

"We're negotiating the end of a war," Elrond said. "Someone from our side must go."

"Why does Glorfindel have to come?" Legolas asked a bit petulantly, waving one hand to the warrior who unwittingly carried the knots of a virgin bride in his hair until a few minutes prior when Elrond had finally taken pity and told him they were there again. Glorfindel had become paranoid afterwards, his fingers running through his hair if any of the three troublemakers were out of sight for more than a few seconds.

"I'm coming because we'll be in hostile territory and he needs protection," Glorfindel sighed, trying to explain his presence for at least the fourth time. "And since the party must be kept small, it's just going to be me."

"Can't you just let him ride ahead of us and give him time to inform his men that we're not to be hung from our ankles and beaten until organs fly out our ears?" Elladan said, siding with his twin and friend.

"Too dangerous," Elrond said in dismissal.

"In case you haven't noticed, I've done a fairly good job of making myself scarce over the last year," Legolas snapped.

"All the more reason you need to be seen with an elfin escort," Elrond returned. Legolas threw his hands up in the air.

_I'm close to knocking their heads together and stuffing them in a supply closet!_

_I'd be willing to help you hogtie them and stand guard at this point,_ Elrohir said in vexation. They eyed each other.

_I think I can get Glorfindel if you can get Elrond,_ Legolas said slowly. The two older elves eyed the pair of werewolves suspiciously, aware that there was some sort of silent communication going on between them.

_Roundhouse kicks on three,_ Elrohir answered. _Spin left so we don't foul each other's movements._

"What are you two…"

In unison at the mental countdown, they lashed out, cutting off the potential question. Elrond went down like a rock. More seasoned in hand-to-hand combat, Glorfindel managed to partially block the blow and might have lunged for his assailant had Elladan not stepped into the fight. A loud metallic twang resounded through the kitchen as the legendary balrog slayer was knocked out by a skillet. The werewolves gave Elladan a surprised look.

"What? My choice in weapons is a bit limited when you surprise me like that," he said.

"What were you doing holding a skillet?" Elrohir asked.

"I was going to pack it," Elladan said, shrugging. He eyed the downed pair a little warily. "They're going to be livid."

"Let them sulk all they want. I needed a head start," Legolas said.

"How long?"

"A day should do it," the prince answered.

"Would you like me to go with you?" Elrohir asked.

"Are you trying to make me hit you with this thing too?" Elladan asked, exasperated. His twin snorted.

"I'm the only one that can travel as he can."

Elladan fell silent for a moment. "You mean to go as wolves." It was not a question.

"It will be simplest to sneak in as such," Legolas said.

"That and I highly doubt that the horses will put up with us for long," Elrohir seconded. He eyed the unconscious elves much as his brother had. "Can you handle them on your own?"

"Provided that they're tied up before they regain consciousness."

Between the three of them, they carried the two prisoners up to Elrond's room, Elladan following at a slower hobble due to his splinted leg. Erestor and Arwen were speaking as they walked down to breakfast, falling silent when they saw the group. They hurried over.

"What happened?" Arwen asked, worried. "Are they okay?"

"Get the door," Legolas said, avoiding the question. He allowed Erestor to help him put down his blond passenger on the bed.

"What happened?" Erestor repeated, the advisor frowning at the attempted evasion of answering the question.

"Difference of opinion," Elrohir commented as he deposited his father on the mattress.

"I need a head start towards home but they insisted on coming along," Legolas said, grinning at the stunned advisor. He held up a length of rope and snapped it in his hands. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the fun way," he said, tone clear that he wouldn't mind the opportunity to beat the snot out of the elf that had skewered him on his sword.

"You'll not get away with this," Erestor said, unsheathing his sword tersely.

Twang!

Erestor was out like a light. Elladan stood over him with his skillet of doom clutched tightly in one hand.

"Why do you still have that?" Legolas asked, amused.

"Forgot to put it down," Elladan admitted, shrugging sheepishly. He looked at his sister, who had been stunned to silence. "Well Arwen, what's it to be for you?"

The absurdity of the situation hit and she laughed aloud, holding her hands out to the plotting trio in surrender. "You overpowered me. Oh, the pain, the horror…"

They managed to tie up their four captives relatively quickly, gagging the three unwilling ones. Elladan and Arwen looked a little stunned when the two werewolves started stripping their clothes off.

"We'll find something to wear when we arrive in Mirkwood," Legolas explained to their stunned observers as he shucked his breeches, which were technically Elladan's. "My older brother is about your size," he commented to Elrohir.

Elladan nudged Arwen and motioned that she watch the pair of werewolves. She gasped, wide-eyed, as their forms seemed to glow slightly for an instant before stretching, altering into canine forms. Inclining their heads in silent farewell, they vanished out the door and into the city.

"That's amazing," Arwen murmured. Elladan nodded in agreement, he was watching his father with a slight amount of trepidation. The older elf was waking up and he was expecting one heck of a fight.

"Feign innocence," Elladan advised her under his breath.

"That should be easy. I didn't do anything," Arwen laughed.

--------

One hour and much cursing later, Elrond had finally managed to gnaw through the gag that had been jammed in his mouth. Glorfindel and Erestor were attempting to do the same. Until then, Elladan had sat idly by cleaning his fingernails with his dagger, steadfastly ignoring the glares directed at the back of his head.

"By Mordor's depths! What were you three thinking?" Elrond roared the moment his mouth was free.

"That Legolas would be able to speak better with his father if he wasn't surrounded by Noldor elves," Elladan said calmly.

"They are both in danger! You have jeopardized the chance of peace between our realms," Elrond snapped. "If he's not recognized and he's killed by his own family, this war could go on for the remainder of this age!"

"Any better if he had died at Erestor's hand?" Elladan returned hotly.

"They discovered their mistake in time," Elrond said.

"Only after ramming a sword through Legolas' chest," Elladan said. "Even then, they only hesitated because he turned back."

Elrond sighed. "What's to say that Thranduil won't make the same mistake?"

"Because Legolas isn't dumb enough to approach him as a wolf now that he's able to control his appearance."

Lips tensed in consideration. "How long of a head start did he request?"

"One day," Elladan pounced.

"Were you planning on leaving us tied up the entire time?"

"Perhaps," Elladan murmured. Elrond sighed, knowing that he had no choice. His sons were skilled at tying knots, as they often practiced on each other often as children in common bouts of sibling rivalry.

"You have your day. Untie us," the elf lord said.

"As soon as you get those two to promise not to beat the life out of me for knocking them out with a skillet."

"WHAT?" Glorfindel yelled, intelligible even beyond his gag. Proud warriors such as himself didn't appreciate the news that they had been taken down by a kitchen utensil.

"If it makes you feel any better, Erestor lost the same way," Elladan offered gleefully. The raven-haired advisor growled, finally managing to spit out his gag.

"You can't keep this up forever," he growled.

"Try me," Elladan taunted. An evil look crossed his features. "I could hold you for a long time if you were catheterized."

"You wouldn't dare," Erestor breathed.

"Don't try him. He might," Elrond advised, rolling his eyes. "Untie us. You have my word that they won't 'beat the life out of you' or," he added, looking at the other two bound warriors sternly, "seek vengeance in any way, shape or form." Sighing, Glorfindel and Erestor nodded in acceptance of the terms of their release.

"And you?"

"I cannot promise not to lecture you later for your recklessness," Elrond said dryly.

"Fair enough," Elladan allowed, slitting the elfin rope with his dagger. Elrond sat up stiffly, rubbing at his chafed wrists. Arwen was freed next, the young woman barely bound for the sake of appearances.

"Were you in on this?" Elrond asked his only daughter.

"I was as shocked as anyone when Elladan popped Erestor with a skillet," Arwen said dismissively, all too happy to bring up the inelegant methodology that had downed two skilled warriors. The named advisor scowled.

"Tell you what," Elladan said to the two bound elves. "If you promise not to pound me into oblivion, I swear I won't tell anyone how I bested you in combat."

Glorfindel seemed to seriously consider the notion, conceding since he had already been ordered not to retaliate. "Agreed," he accepted, his words muffled by the cloth in his mouth. In reality, the word was mangled beyond recognition, only understood by the sheer will of the waiting party.

"Agreed," Erestor said a little more grudgingly. Elladan grinned as he cut them free. The two irritated warriors stalked out of the room to leave the mirthful twin alone with his family to be chewed out. They had much work to do and were thankful that they had already sent out messengers to all of the troops to tell them to desist and retreat.

"Now," Elrond said sternly. "I understand that you truly believe that your brother and Legolas are better off alone, but whatever possessed you to take the actions you did?"

"I'm not sure what came over them, I just went along with it," Elladan shrugged. "I didn't know what they were discussing until they sprang."

"Discussing?" Elrond repeated. "They didn't say a word."

"I'd like to say that they're just good at reading each other's expressions," Elladan said hesitantly. "But after watching them for the last few days, I've been led to believe that they've developed some form of telepathy."

"Telepathy?" Elrond echoed, stunned. The notion had never passed his waking mind that the two werewolves would be capable of such an act. He realized that he was beginning to sound much like a parrot in his answers and made an effort to stop mimicking whatever was being said to him.

"Prior year notwithstanding, I'm beginning to become jealous," Arwen commented wryly. She shrugged at the mortified look it earned her from her father. "Stronger, faster, telepathic, able to take another form… and from what I hear about last night, able to recover from any injury in the span of a few heart beats."

"The thought of a hairy daughter is not one I relish," Elrond commented. His children laughed aloud. He just shook his head and let out a beleaguered sigh. "I will give you the one day, but we are setting out for Mirkwood tomorrow morning." His tone brooked no argument. He got up a little stiffly from his time bound, relieved that he wasn't dizzy from the rather swift kick his son had delivered him.

As an afterthought, he took the skillet away from Elladan.

--------

To Be Continued…

R&R! Don't make me get the skillet!


	5. Chapter 5

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Legolas and Elrohir managed to cover almost twice the distance that a company on horseback would have been able to travel in their first day. They stayed far away from the roads and commonly used trails to avoid all contact with the elves in the region. The various patrols and troops spanning the woods were all but inexistent in the Misty Mountains, and painfully easy to avoid in the Mirkwood forest. Even if they couldn't scent the elves from afar, their hearing was much sharper than before as was their eyesight.

Only once were they pursued by a particularly skilled elf that had sensed their presence, and even then they were able to outrun the horse he rode. Legolas had taken the time to study the Silvan elf and had all but crowed in delight when he recognized him.

_Elrohir! Wait up. We absolutely must take the opportunity to taunt him,_ Legolas called to his companion.

_Why?_

_I know him,_ Legolas laughed. _Trust me. The prick deserves it._

_My, but you have a high opinion of him._

_He has no bow!_

_What does that matter?_ Elrohir asked, a bit frightened of the answer.

_We can charge him and he can't do a thing about it!_ Laughing, the blond circled back, leaving the harassed twin no choice but to do the same.

Elrohir followed a little hesitantly. _He still has a sword, doesn't he?_

_He needs to be taught a lesson. The idiot followed us out here alone with nothing but a scimitar as his defense,_ Legolas said dismissively.

_That's still a weapon,_ Elrohir said, vexed.

_He won't have a chance to use it,_ Legolas reassured him.

The discussion ended abruptly as they came upon the mounted elf. Elrohir followed Legolas into a charge uncertainly, a bit shocked when the blond began growling and foaming at the mouth rather convincingly. Noting that the elf was right handed, Elrohir ducked to the left to run past the rider on his bad side. Legolas had no such inhibitions about the weapon, nor did he duck to either side of the animal. In a move that was brutal at best, he body slammed the horse's chest with his shoulder, forcing the animal to rear and throw his hapless passenger to the dirt. The move was unbefitting of a wolf, but it was effective.

_Get his sword!_ Legolas called urgently.

It was only then that Elrohir saw that the elf had lost his hold on the weapon when he landed flat on his back. Still miffed with the blond, he moved in tensely, snagging the weapon by the hilt in his jaws and darting out of range. He was immensely startled beyond rational thought when he turned around to find Legolas struggling with the elf. The blond was obviously having way too much fun with the situation and had tackled the downed, unarmed elf. Snarling and snapping, though never connecting with flesh more firmly than a painful nip or pinch, he wrestled with the poor warrior ruthlessly, taking every opportunity to kick him in the gut and thighs while the downed blond elf did his best to fend him off.

After a few minutes, Legolas finally had pity on the tormented soul he was attacking and leapt away, running for the trees. Dropping the sword he had confiscated, Elrohir followed, glad to be away from the odd encounter.

_Mind telling me what that was about?_ Elrohir asked, miffed.

_I told you that I knew him,_ Legolas partially answered.

_So who is he?_ Elrohir prompted. The archer seemed far too amused with the entire situation for his piece of mind.

_My older brother,_ Legolas chuckled. He only laughed louder when the black wolf lost his footing at the news and nearly landed face first in the dirt.

_WHAT? _Elrohir exclaimed, aghast. _You did that to your own brother?_ He paused, trembling slightly as he ran. It took Legolas a moment to realize that he was on the verge of laughing himself sick.

_I'd get my father too, but I don't think that would be the best of ideas,_ Legolas commented lightly.

_Probably not,_ Elrohir agreed.

They laughed for hours as they ran, making astounding progress towards the fallen prince's home.

--------

It had taken a few days of hard travel with few stops to rest or eat, but the wolf pair had arrived in the massive riddling caves that the wood elves called home. Elrohir was absolutely flabbergasted when Legolas brought him to a tiny hole in the ground and squirmed inside. The hidden entrance would be invisible to anyone even actively searching for it and if spotted for whatever reason would look like nothing but a pitted indentation in the soil. They wended their way through absolute blackness for nearly a mile in cramped, twisting conditions. At times, the little cave grew so narrow that they were pressed horribly to squeeze past. When he became stuck for the third time, Elrohir grew fairly miffed.

_What kind of psychotic head case would build something like this?_ Elrohir asked tersely.

_Actually, I helped dig out this extension when I was a child,_ Legolas responded. _My brother and I designed it in a moment of sheer boredom. We're the only ones that know it's here._

_Any particular reason it's this small?_

_Discourages anyone from using it even if they come upon it,_ the blond explained. _That and we were children, as I said. They seemed larger to us when we were less than half the size we are now. We never got around to widening them._

_How does fresh air get in here?_

_Very slowly. This route can't be used very often._

_Not reassuring, that. How much further?_

_We're about a fifth of the way there._

_WHAT? _Elrohir exclaimed, aghast at the information.

_It all depends on where you want to go. We're almost to a set of junctions. Be careful not to get separated from me._

Legolas hesitated at a widening in the tunnels, waiting until Elrohir brushed up against him before moving again. He kept his tail in contact with the black wolf while he moved forward, carefully lifting himself into an opening above their heads. Elrohir made four false starts before he found the proper tunnel.

_Just how many passages are in this thing?_ he asked in clear vexation.

_I never really counted,_ Legolas admitted. He took a moment to tally and tried to multiply without losing track of where he was. _Four hundred and six._

Elrohir lost his footing in shock. _Does insanity run in your family?_

Legolas snorted. _You can get to anywhere in Mirkwood through these things._

_How long did it take to do this?_

_Many years,_ Legolas said. _We'll come out in my brother's quarters._ He sounded a bit smug. _After all, we know he's not there._

Laughing, the two continued to the crown prince's room. There was a large tile on the floor in the corner that Legolas lifted to open the end of the tunnel and allow them out. Legolas leapt into the room and came to the shocking realization that he had gotten turned around. He wasn't in his brother's room. He was in his father's room. So was his father. The livid king was on his feet with sword drawn in a heartbeat. Legolas was having none of it and ran to his father, leaping up into the air to shift back to an elf so he could keep running. Witnessing the strange transformation and being glomped by a naked elf was enough to shock the king into silence and utter stillness. The sword clattered to the ground from limp fingers.

Elrohir watched warily from the opening to the tunnels, getting out in case he was forced to do something. As it was, he wasn't. Thranduil looked thunderstruck, eyes wide, face slack and arms still upheld where they had been when he was on the attack. Very delicately, he closed his arms around Legolas as if he was some gossamer being that might break at the faintest touch. With a ragged sob, he tightened his arms almost convulsively, clinging to his son with everything he had. He hadn't even noticed Elrohir and the black wolf was not eager to make his presence known.

"You're alive," Thranduil murmured. "Sweet Eru… you're alive."

"Stop the war," Legolas said, ignoring his father's stunned exclamations. Thranduil pulled back, jaw slightly slack from the shock of the sudden request.

"What?" he said numbly.

"Please, Ada, stop the war," Legolas pleaded. He correctly interpreted the slight tensing of the muscles through his father's back as an imminent refusal and continued doggedly, skewing the view of events to the angle he had lived it. "I joined my troop with the one led by Elladan and Elrohir. Had they not been there with their swordsmen when the orcs attacked, my entire troop probably would have been killed."

"That Peredhil brat's incompetence resulted in what happened!" Thranduil growled, still unaware that said brat was a few feet away from them. He pushed Legolas away from him, holding him roughly by his biceps and shaking him slightly as though the movement would force his son to see reason. "Look at what his failure has done! You're a mess. For the last year or more, you've been nothing more than a slavering animal!"

"The moment we realized something was wrong, they tried to get me to help. They ran their horses to death doing it. And during that time, I even infected one of my rescuers," Legolas said firmly. Elrohir wisely didn't correct that it had been his own fault that he had caught the ailment from the prince. "Just recently, it's only because of the Noldor that I managed to return to normal at all." There was no way in Middle Earth that he'd say specifically how they'd helped. Skewering his youngest son didn't put anyone on Thranduil's good side.

Stated from that extremely biased version of events, the twins came out looking like loving souls that were victimized by Legolas' carelessness. Thranduil didn't give up so easily, ornery to a fault.

"How can you defend the Noldor scum? They tried to kill you!" Thranduil snapped.

"So did you!" Legolas countered bitterly.

Jaw clicking shut in mute finality of the attack, Thranduil dropped his hands and stepped away, taken aback at the hurt in his son's voice. The subject was obviously a very painful one for the fallen archer. Thranduil looked away, unable to meet his son's reproachful blue glare. The redirection of his gaze landed his sights on Elrohir, who was still lurking in the corner of the room silently. Cursing loudly, he dove for his dropped sword. Legolas leapt between them.

"Out of the way!" Thranduil ordered, trying to shove his son to the side.

"No," Legolas growled. _Elrohir, revert._ Thranduil started to protest, but Legolas cut him off coldly. "Ada, this is my best friend, Elrohir."

Hearing himself named, he quietly reverted, flinging his raven tresses for effect and squirming a bit uncomfortably at the shocked scrutiny bestowed upon him by the angry king. He cupped both hands around his genitals in a rare display of decency. He cleared his throat softly.

"Pleasure to meet you," Elrohir quipped, unable to stifle his personality even in the most pressing of circumstances. "I'd offer to shake your hand, but well, you know." He nodded his head towards his occupied hands.

For a few terse heartbeats, no one dared to so much as breathe as Thranduil looked to be on the verge of blowing up. He was turning very red in the face and had started trembling. A weird grunting gurgle escaped his lips and the two werewolves wondered if he had accidentally swallowed his tongue in his fury. The king finally exploded, roaring with rapacious laughter and causing both of the younger elves to gape in shock.

"Sweet Elbereth's tit! No wonder you two get along!" Thranduil managed, snapping his sword back into his sheath. He shook his head in surrender. "You win, boy. I will call off the war provided that Elrond does the same."

"He's already pulled back and is speaking of 'cessation of hostilities' or some such. He's just waiting for your reply," Elrohir was quick to inform him. Thranduil arched one eyebrow at him.

"Indeed? Presumptuous of him," the blond king murmured. He turned to walk out of his chambers. "I'll inform the commanders. In the meantime, put some clothes on. Oh, and Legolas? When I return, I expect a full explanation of why there is a hole in my bedroom floor, and knowing you, a number of other places. The final tally will be impressive, I'm sure. Your explanation had better be good." With that, he swept out of his quarters, leaving the two younger elves to stare after him.

"You know," Legolas commented, "this is the first time you've ever shot off your mouth and not gotten us into trouble."

"Unfortunately, that's quite true," Elrohir admitted with a laugh.

The two wandered off in search of clothes as ordered. They were still stunned that it had been so easy to convince Thranduil, though a good deal of it had been a mental short circuit on the king's side at seeing his son return from the dead and a gigantic black wolf turn into his worst enemy's son. They slunk down the halls, managing to scare several maids into gasping at the sight of two naked elves roaming the grounds. In elfin kind, streaking was absolutely unheard of, too undignified for the average elf to attempt.

They skulked into a poorly garnished room and Elrohir quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at his companion. The furniture looked as though it had been greatly abused, the wood a collection of scratches and dings. There was a dagger imbedded in the wall. The bed was unmade and the pillows covered in drool. Dirty clothes and boots were strewn across the floor and leggings hung from various pieces of furniture. A pair of underwear was stuck to the ceiling. Books of questionable content were strewn across a desk and both elves were a bit scared of the sticky looking pages.

"This is rather… interesting decor," Elrohir commented.

"The description you're looking for can be summed up with a simple 'could you please gouge out my eyes now?' I think. And I agree, it's horrid," Legolas said with a shrug. "It's my brother's room."

"Yikes. No wonder you attacked him earlier."

"We're just here to get you something to wear, then we'll head towards my room."

"No offense, Legolas, but I don't think I want to wear anything out of that closet."

"You have no choice, I'm afraid. Your butt is too big to squeeze into anything I own," Legolas teased. "And for the record, I attacked him because he deserved it."

"He's perpetrated some offense worse than this room?" Elrohir asked, struggling to choose whether to be amused or horrified.

"Four years ago, he got me raving drunk and died my hair green while I was unconscious," Legolas growled, eyes glinting with repressed vengeance. "Right before a royal gathering."

Elrohir laughed, taking the clothes proffered him despite his former protests. The garments hung in the closet seemed to be painfully cleaned, leading him to the belief that a maid must be responsible for his laundry if not his room. He eyed the blond, trying to imagine the golden tresses in a vivid lime green. He couldn't quite do it.

"You know, your brother should return within the next few days and I think we can greet him before your father does," Elrohir offered.

"That would be great. Assuming I'm not tied up and beaten senseless," the archer muttered.

"Ah yes, the tunnels," the elf knight laughed. "What did you plan to tell him?"

"That a few rooms in the area are connected," Legolas said, shaking his head. He pulled an overlarge tunic over his head so that he would be at least partially dressed for the trip to his room. "He doesn't need to know that the entire kingdom is riddled with tunnels because my brother and I got creative in a moment of sheer boredom."

"Why am I not surprised?" a new voice asked. The two young elves looked up guiltily at the return of King Thranduil, the royal blond leaning lazily against the doorframe.

"Um, hello, ada," Legolas said guiltily. He offered him a little grin that resulted in a roll of beleaguered eyes.

"Why do I have the feeling that it would have been easier to have you still roaming my woods in naught but your tails?"

The two werewolves grinned unrepentantly. Life in Middle Earth was about to take a turn for the interesting.

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END

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